I Can Only Make Ears
Each time I’m pregnant it gets worse. The “pregnancy brain” and its forgetfulness is much more apparent, my body grows more weary and I can do less and less at a time. Gone are the long runs or even the short ones. Dance Party USA with my two kids at our house becomes a distant memory. That is unless I want to throw up for long periods of time afterwards. Thanks, but I’ll pass. Someone else can run the dance party and tunes.
All that ‘being active’ stuff disappearing makes me sad and sometimes frustrated but what really goes down the tubes is my creativity. Some mothers seem to burst forth with new ideas and incentive while gestating a wee one. Not me. Nope. It seems my body as well as my mind is pretty darn content to just make ears, new internal organs and phalanges instead of blog posts, witty articles on parenting or insightful product reviews. More often than not I end up with writers block for my daily blog, unable to remember what I did five minutes ago much less that hilarious thing that my preschooler did that morning. The professional freelance jobs I have, become tests of mental acuity and lessons in sitting and staring. I could probably kill a goat with all the staring I do at my computer screen as of late.
I wish I could be content with this whole “I can only gestate one thing at a time” thing and take what my best friend says to heart. “You are making a whole person! A human being! It’s hard work! Cut yourself some slack!” Yet the Type A part of me, the one that also likes steady paychecks, finds my earlobe and hair follicle making to be less miraculous and more of a pain in the patootie than I would often like to admit.
